


Save Me From Her Stone-Cold Gaze

by goldenzingy46



Series: Tomarry Works [15]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: (Ish) - Freeform, Age Difference, Boys In Love, Boys Kissing, Canon Compliant, Complete, Creepy, Cross-Generation Relationship, Death, Eventual Romance, HP Cross Gen Fest 2020, Happy Ending, I Ship It, I Tried, I Will Go Down With This Ship, I Wrote This Instead of Sleeping, I blame the prompt, I mean it really is debatable, I put way too much detail into kissing wow, Kissing, M/M, Master of Death Harry Potter, Murder, Oneshot, Reunions, Romance, Seal the deal with a kiss, Time Skips, that wasn't supposed to happen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-15
Updated: 2020-08-15
Packaged: 2021-03-04 20:33:46
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,286
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25432417
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/goldenzingy46/pseuds/goldenzingy46
Summary: Tom Riddle has spent years looking for the Chamber of Secrets, and he's glad he can finally purge the school of Mudbloods.At least, that was the plan.It turns out the basilisk wasn't happy to be controlled, and Tom is forced to make a deal with the Master of Death (and maybe fall in love with him).
Relationships: Harry Potter/Tom Riddle | Voldemort
Series: Tomarry Works [15]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2091711
Comments: 32
Kudos: 147
Collections: HP Cross Gen Fest 2020





	Save Me From Her Stone-Cold Gaze

**Author's Note:**

> Well, here we go: writing in the middle of the night and hoping it comes out all right. Not sure I entirely like the results, but it's interesting, to say the least. Glad I tried to write MOD!Death!Harry

"Open," Tom Riddle hisses at the sink in the girls’ bathroom, delighted when the sinks start to move. So maybe it’d been a long shot, but it’d worked, right?

The inside of the pipe was filthy, and not what he’d expected of Salazar Slytherin, even if it had been abandoned for nearly a thousand years. He had imagined that Salazar would want to make it hospitable for his descendants, but clearly that was not the case.

“Speak to me Slytherin, greatest of Hogwarts four.”

In his head, he kept up a mantra. _What could go wrong, I’m the heir, it will work, it will work, it will work._

But even Tom Marvolo Riddle felt fear in the face of the basilisk before him. It was no great snake, as he had believed, but a monster, the same monster of legend. The kind of monster you grow up to fear, with fangs and teeth and scales, of eyes so deadly they could kill you in an instant, ones that worked for a great evil.

“Speaker…” it hissed, tail flicking back and forth.

“I am the heir of Salazar Slytherin. I command that you see me as your new master and together we shall purge the halls of Hogwarts.”

Okay, so maybe he’d been a little presumptuous. But even still, he was the heir of Slytherin and this- this _beast_ was his by birth right!

Tom found himself flying through the air to land on his back, the basilisk towering above him.

“You are not Salazar Slytherin, speaker. Your blood is thick and polluted… you are a disgrace. You are no master of mine!”

Tom snarled, pulling himself up. “Perhaps I am! But I am of the Slytherin line and _you shall bow to me!_ ”

“I bow to no one, _speaker_. I bow not to the heir of the Snake Lord, and certainly not one like you.”

He swallowed. Okay, he’d made a mistake. What now?

Wand in hand, he crept towards the beast. An Imperius Curse would do the trick.

“Obey me, foul creature.”

The basilisk thrashed in his control, fought him, and he felt powerful.

Power like this was worth the fight.

And then Tom’s head smashed into the stone behind him, and the smell of his own blood penetrated the air, coils of snake tail pinning him down.

“Tell me, speaker. Do you fear death?”

He wanted to say no, to deny it, to hiss and fight and struggle, to win, to dominate… to kill.

But he was scared. So very, very, painfully scared. Scared of his own mortality and his own ability to die, he, Tom Marvolo Riddle, feared the day he would cease to exist.

And so, in his silence, he found himself staring into the bright yellow orbs of the basilisk.

***

Tom opened his eyes in what seemed like a curiously mistier version of King’s Cross Station. Which was weird, but whatever. He had more pressing matters to deal with: he had just _died._

Whoops.

“Hello?”

_Tom Marvolo Riddle…_

_I didn’t expect you for quite some time._

Tom’s eyes were wide, and he swung around in panic.

“Who are you?!” he yelled, only to notice that the empty bench was not quite so empty anymore.

_I am Death. Or at least its Master._

He closed his eyes and dropped to the floor. “That’s it? It’s over?”

Everything he’d worked for had failed.

_You are merely dead. It should not be much of an obstruction to you, Lord Voldemort._

Tom glared at the man on the bench and ripped off his hood. The man smiled, an odd scar on his face and green eyes and… damn. He was pretty.

_You may call me Harry, Tom Riddle._

Tom didn’t ask how he knew what he was thinking, and instead turned his attention to the bigger deal: getting out of here and back to life.

Harry walked up to him, resting a hand on his shoulder. _There will be time for your questions, Tom Riddle._

The touch on his shoulder was too much.

_Are you scared, Tom?_

He tried not to flinch as the hand traced the line of his cheekbones.

_You can have life… and the basilisk. I cannot change fate._

Tom looked up at Harry, noses nearly touching, and his eyes flickered down to his lips. So tempting...

_If she hurts anyone, she will return to hibernation. Do not try to call her again._

“Thank you,” Tom whispered, and let the hands cup his jaw, pressing his lips into the kiss, velvety lips consumed by Harry’s, eyes fluttering shut as everything seemed to melt into the single moment. Teeth and tongue clashing in all the right ways, the sparks of nervousness, excitement, who knows? dancing into his mouth and down his spine, shooting into his fingertips and twisting his innards up into a knot.

Something within him knew that this was wrong– _wrong–_ but he also couldn’t find it within himself to care. There was just Harry, Harry’s skin and teeth and tongue, like Tom had been sucked away into the black hole that was his kisses, too delicious but deadly. What more could you expect from Death himself?

“Tom,” Harry gasped, and the sound was all too human and not the otherworldly voice of Death. “Thank you- oh god, _gods,_ I love you- but you have to go, now. Before they get suspicious.”

Tom’s dark eyes glittered. “How about you offer me control of the basilisk with a kiss?”

Harry smiled. “I like the way you think, Tom Riddle,” and then they were one, mouths pressed together, hungrily devouring the other in a storm of passion and longing and love that should not be, between the Master of Death and a mortal man.

“You are _everything._ ”

And then Tom woke up in the cold chamber with a basilisk bound to his will.

***

Tom first noticed the changes when Myrtle died. The slight shift of air that felt so like his Harry – almost like the Master of Death – almost like _Death_ – was still there, curling an arm around his shoulders and pressing a kiss against his jaw.

Sure, the basilisk went back to sleep, but a quick few words had the blame on Hagrid and Tom could only think of Harry, Harry and his next kill.

His father died mere milliseconds before his grandparents, and he shivered with the ghostly feel of Harry’s touches. Tom sometimes wondered whether he was going mad, hallucinating, but was caught in the web of his addiction to slaughter – well, it was all another method of getting to Harry.

Harry, the perfect poison. Sugar-laced words and death threats mixed with the soft murder of his lips on his, heart beating too fast and then stopping entirely.

Harry was Tom’s world, and he was not afraid to admit it.

He was his addiction.

His drug.

***

Harry James Potter was hard to kill. Tom – _Voldemort_ – kept trying to get him to fight, to dance the dance that his love would dance, to show the passionate embrace he missed so dearly. But all he wanted was to survive.

How utterly _boring,_ and very much not like his Harry.

His Harry would have raised an eyebrow and smirked, licked his lips and flung back his arm, letting loose a volley of curses before pouncing, pinning him against the wall and tasting him again.

Voldemort missed his Harry.

***

Tom opened his eyes in King’s Cross to the sound of Harry’s laughter.

“Bested by the disarming curse, ey?”

There was Harry.

And then they were one.

“Hello, _my lord,”_ he murmured.

“Hello, _master,”_ Death murmured.

The Master of Death looked at Death – his soulmate, his equal, his lover – and let his desire take over.

**Author's Note:**

> I've never kissed anyone in my life (aroace) so here's to hoping that the kissing scene works >_>
> 
> \---
> 
> This work is part of the 2020 Harry Potter Cross Gen Fest. The author will be revealed at the end of August.
> 
> \---
> 
> You could... poke your head into my [Discord server](https://discord.gg/37bXdGW)? I don't bite (much)!
> 
> Alternately, you could pop into my mess of a Tumblr [here](https://goldenzingy46.tumblr.com/), or my writing Tumblr [here](https://goldenzingy46butwriteblr.tumblr.com/)!
> 
> Comments and kudos sustain me :)
> 
> [for bribe related reasons, i ask you to go and have a look at user [alfisha](https://archiveofourown.org/users/alfisha)'s fics, and they are a damn good writer]


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